


of coffees, kibbles & collisions

by i_am_not



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Human, Bakery and Coffee Shop, Coffee Shops, Cute, Dogs, Falling In Love, First Kiss, Flirting, Fluff, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, Malec Monday, Mutual Pining, Sexual Tension, Silly, for the quarantine blues, idk fate or matchmaking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-28
Updated: 2020-04-28
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:20:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23876071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_am_not/pseuds/i_am_not
Summary: Magnus Bane is rarely at a loss for words. Everyone who knows him is privy to that. Actually, Magnus Bane isonly everat a loss of words foronereason: Alec Lightwood.ORthat Coffee-shop AU no one asked for. with aDOGGO!!!
Relationships: Alternate Magnus Bane/Alternate Alec Lightwood (Shadowhunters: This World Inverted), Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood
Comments: 14
Kudos: 158
Collections: Coffee Shop/Barista/Eatery AUs, Fluff vs. Angst Battle 2020, Malace 101, Malec best





	of coffees, kibbles & collisions

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bidness](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bidness/gifts).
  * Inspired by [heart (and shirt) stained red](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20645879) by [eraseallpicturesofron](https://archiveofourown.org/users/eraseallpicturesofron/pseuds/eraseallpicturesofron). 



> Everyone, PLEASE immediately go read the above^  
> IT'S A **DELIGHT**. It's one of my favourite things ever and I have borrowed heavily from their meet-cute.
> 
>  **Edit. 9 Sept 2020:** ADDED below, mood board by [headasexual](https://archiveofourown.org/users/headasexual/pseuds/headasexual) <3 (everyone go ready EVERYTHING by her!)
> 
> finally,  
> for bidness, who never fails to cheer me up, and never complains about my incessant whining. A ray of fucking sunshine. I love you to bits <3  
> here's more of your sexy!Alec and flustered!Magnus. I hope I've done some justice, can't seem to focus on anything else, and we all need **fluff** , **floof** and **fools in love**.

**THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THIS,[headasexual](https://archiveofourown.org/users/headasexual/pseuds/headasexual) <3 **

****

* * *

The shop is barely even crowded; just a smattering of people concentrated around the large glass windows with their heads down and a couple of students furiously typing away at their laptops. This, of course, only adding to the humiliation when Magnus manages to get startled by Bonbon—Catarina’s seven-year-old Beagle, followed by someone having just pushed the door open with the telltale tinkle—his foot gets caught on the side of the door and he flails briefly, the half-full paper cup in his hand crushing and spilling itself on the man whose salmon pink shirt, carefully pressed and everything, is now distressingly stained with the remnants of Magnus’ mochaccino.

Unable to tear his eyes away from the awful stain that was cruelly mocking him, Magnus rambles,  
“Ah, _shoot_ , I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s alright,” comes Alec Lightwood’s swift reassurance, “really.” And Magnus is suddenly made aware that they’re both crowding the doorframe and he is very much leaning against the arm that has come around his shoulders in a gallant effort to stop him from falling. _He really should move_.

“Alexander,” Magnus says instead, breathless and eyes widening in recognition. He desperately tries to conceal the eager thump of his heart from affecting his tone. “Hi.”

Needless to say, he fails.

Alec’s response is a dazzling smile that shows off a set of perfect white teeth, the kind that belonged to people simply gifted with superior genes, the ones who never needed braces growing up, and fuck if he isn’t so self-assured. Even with coffee seeping into his shirt, marking a large, unflattering stain, he radiates unbridled confidence.

Magnus Bane is rarely at a loss for words. Everyone who has ever known him is privy to that much. Actually, Magnus Bane is _only ever_ at a loss of words for one, rapidly manifest reason: Alexander Lightwood.

And a smiling Alec Lightwood, eyes alight with mischief is _particularly_ detrimental to Magnus’ more civil reflexes.

That’s when he remembers that he’s still leaning into Alec for support and now they seemed to have drifted closer. Alec’s eyes flicker to his mouth and predictably, his many emotional insecurities urge him to snap out of it, to collect himself, but the part of him that’s probably still a hormonal teenager, tells him that there’s no harm in staying put just a _little bit_ longer.

It takes them both an impatient cough from a customer followed by a brusque “Excuse me,” to break out their reverie.

“I really didn’t mean to,” Magnus gestures ruefully at Alec’s chest, watching Alec, carefully dab paper towels on the stain, heat already spreading across his face, “I’m so sorry.”

“I imagine you wouldn’t want to spill…” Alec picked at the stain and smelled his index finger “…chocolate on me if you had planned on avoiding me.”

His words aren’t critical, there’s no malice in them, and upon realizing that Alec is just teasing, Magnus just smiles softly at him in apology, “I’m really sorry.”

“I hear vinegar is an easy remedy.” Alec smiles back, “And you can buy us two coffees, take a break with me, and all will be forgiven.”

\-----

The first time Alec Lightwood found him in the café his childhood friend owned, frustratedly browsing through the cookbooks for a specific Loss family lemon tart recipe, Magnus had fervently wished it to be a coincidence.

“Allow me,” Alec had said and casually moved near him, his taller form reaching up with ease to pull down the familiar book, lying flat, from the top shelf. _Exactly how and when did it get from the middle to_ _up there?_

Judging by the long side-eyed glances Catarina spared them, smirking at his reaction whenever Alec’s hands happened to brush against him— _of course, they were purely accidental_ —Magnus had a sneaking suspicion that this was orchestrated.

\-------

The second time Alec Lightwood made an appearance in Catarina’s café was when Magnus had finally found the time, in weeks, to come and pick a colour for the walls. Admittedly, the circumstances were slightly less suspicious. Alec was, after all, an event planner and it wasn’t _completely_ outlandish that Catarina had asked for his opinion.

It was perfectly reasonable, only _very_ _professional_.

Even if Alec’s gaze never left him and especially since Magnus couldn’t take his eyes off of him.

\-------

The third time, his dearest friend had enlisted the Lightwood siblings’ help to plan a book launch for a local home cook.

If Magnus thought asking someone of Alec Lightwood’s Upper East Side glamour to organize a decidedly homely event was odd, he didn’t mention it. Catarina seemed much too happy and he didn’t want to put a dampener on that with his possibly unfounded qualms.

Besides, Alec had done a fantastic job, all the while looking nothing short of utterly bewitching. _Not that he had been watching Alec all the time_.

Magnus had belatedly thought he’d mention something of it to Cat, maybe tell her he wasn’t sure what exactly drew Alec Lightwood to her small entrepreneurial venture. But then Alec Lightwood had found his way beside him and he had looked at him: his hazel eyes laughing, his mouth parting to say something—words that Magnus couldn’t quite hear; because this close he could smell Alec’s thinly applied perfume and Magnus’ clouded mind could only direct him to stare distractedly at Alec’s full lips. And truth be told, from the niggling doubt in the back of his head, he already knew why.

\-------

The fourth time Magnus was _sure_ Catarina was up to something.

He had come in to pick up some of the famous Brazilian coffee beans Ragnor had supplied her. With an unconscious smile he had turned towards the counter, and for all that was still good and sacred on this bountiful green earth, he had found Alec Lightwood instead of Catarina and stopped dead in his tracks. Pausing to collect himself.

Alec had beckoned him towards the array of steaming cups in front of him, arranged in a neat line on the counter, and Magnus had obediently followed the alluring fragrance of coffee—he wasn’t sure if he could outright deny this man anything—his eyes stealing glances at the way Alec bent over them, carefully scrutinizing each cup. It was such a domestic scene, it made his heart feel tender with the kind of want Magnus had taught himself to forget.

Since there was _no way_ something like this could just happen, Magnus was feeling more and more certain by the minute that Cat was somehow involved.

When he had savoured all seven cupfuls to Mr Barista’s satisfaction, quietly wondering if the taste of freshly brewed coffee had always been this intoxicating, and was in the process of picking a flavour; Alec had suddenly, unthinkingly reached out with his thumb and wiped the corner of his mouth. Magnus had promptly stopped breathing for what was the longest seconds of his life. Alec’s hand had lingered and the gentleness of his touch awoke a hunger in him than wasn’t just from the scent of cinnamon rolls.

Seconds later, Magnus spotted Clary and Catarina emerging from the kitchen, whispering about something. It was getting to be very suspicious indeed, now that they kept throwing furtive glances at him and Alec.

“Hi, Magnus.” Clary smiled and turned to Alec, “Hey, did you get the beans Izzy wanted?” she asked, looping her arm through his elbow. Magnus felt an unwarranted wave of envy at Clary’s easy familiarity with Alec.

 _Fine_.

Magnus was _almost_ certain.

\-------

“We’ve got to stop meeting like this,” Alec said as soon as he’d found Magnus in the backyard of the coffee shop. “Or people might think I’m following you around.”

“And are you, Mr Lightwood?” Magnus, already buzzing with alcohol, felt dangerously uninhibited. “Following me?” He added over the rim of his cup, praying that the darkness hid his flushed face.

“I might be.” Alec’s eyes were dark and shining and _heated_.

Magnus had found himself giggling in response, trying to ease the sudden tightness in his throat and the heat coiling in his veins.

“May I?” Alec had asked, reaching for his empty glass.

“Yes please,” Magnus had whispered too quickly, keenly, stumbling a little and Alec had caught his hand. Magnus felt his touch scorch the skin around his wrist. His mouth was parched.

The fireworks burst above them in a phenomenal synchrony of shapes and colours, lighting up the summer sky. Magnus saw Catarina laugh, surrounded by Isabelle and Clary and Jace, joined by that well-meaning boy from the band. It felt a little surreal, a fragile sense of belonging he didn’t fully trust just yet.

It also didn’t escape Magnus that Alec was still holding onto his hand, his grip relentless. Magnus tugged at their joined hands and turned to look at him, Alec’s eyes, which were already roving all over him, now raised to return his gaze, piercing, unguarded. _A challenge_.

“What do you want?” Magnus had blurted, appreciating the line of Alec’s nose and stealing a long look at his wine-stained mouth, wanted nothing more than to kiss it, wondering what they’d taste like. Magnus' eyes searched his face, Alec’s light eyes and pale skin were shades of sapphire in the burst of light. Magnus reminded himself not to gape.

“What I want,” Alec had said, his breath hot against Magnus’ ear, he wasn’t sure if the nearness was entirely for his benefit, “Is for you to call me Alec.” But Magnus decided he didn’t care because Alec had used his hold on his wrist to pull up his arm quite suddenly, producing a pen and quickly scribbling a number across his forearm, Alec’s fingers steadily grazing against his rapid pulse.

They’re closing the shop when Cat finds Magnus alone again. “I swear, I leave you alone for a minute,” Cat says under her breath, there’s laughter in her voice, “And you’re all over _that_.” She nods towards the direction the Lightwoods and their friends took for emphasis.

Magnus gawped indignantly at his oldest friend. “I did not, I was _not_ all over him!”

“Sure, if you want to believe that.” Catarina raised her eyebrows, studying her nails, “When are you going to stop pining and ask him for that drink?”

Magnus sighed.

\-------

The fifth time, Magnus really has no excuse.

> **_If I happen to be picking up more of that delicious coffee, will I happen to run into you again? xx_ **

Magnus had volunteered to catalogue Catarina’s collection of rare cookbooks that day, and he wondered if Alec also happened to know that.

And despite the many promises he had made to himself in front of the mirror, disgruntledly brushing his teeth over his complete lack of self-restraint, and he had texted Alec Lightwood back instantly.

> _I promised Cat I’d help with the catalogue today. ~M.B._
> 
> **_Perfect. xx_ **
> 
> _Do you . . ._

Nope, the tone wasn’t right.

> _Would you like to . . ._

Of course, he would, he heard Cat’s voice in his ear. That’s what he just said!

> _Help? I’ll be there after noon ~M.B._

Fuck that sounded desperate.

> **_So you’re saying I’ll get see the tastiest the bakery has to offer in no time :D. xx_ **

Magnus squinted at his phone, and then he blushed. And then he cursed his recklessness and with his heart quivering in anticipation, typed back.

> _Did you mean the cinnamon rolls? ~M.B._
> 
> **_Did I? ;) xx_ **

Magnus dropped his phone and buried his face, hot with embarrassment, into his towel.

_Dear Lord, what was he doing, acting like a twelve-year-old?_

\-------

“. . . Kibbles?” Alec says, craning his neck from the crowd of people around him, eager to pet Bonbon who was snugly tucked away in Alec’s arms. “Have you got his kibbles?” he repeats, having finally made his way to the counter.

Magnus stares at him. His mind quickly deducing the hows and whys of this situation coming to pass. And as glorious as Alec Lightwood looked, nuzzling the head of this bundle of enthusiasm curled in his beautiful arms—both of them painting a picture of pure joy. He has, nonetheless, shown up unannounced for the sixth time in his friend’s shop, and on the very day Magnus has grudgingly taken a shift, _because friendships_ , and now he has Catarina’s dog lapping away at his perfect face, his perfect smile and the perfect way his fingers curl behind Bonbon’s ear, scratching softly.

Magnus narrowed his eyes, filling a bowl full of kibbles and sliding it across the counter towards Alec. “Did Cat have something to do with this?”

Magnus was not prepared for the flush that spread across Alec’s face.

 _Adorable_.

“I-I don’t know,” Alec’s voice was small, “Maybe?”

Honestly, Magnus wants to be mad, more at himself than at his friends but the sight of Alec with Bonbon in his arms, whimpering softly, melts every remnant of Magnus’ misgivings. And he breaks into exasperated laughter, dazed from Alec’s frank smile.

\-------

The sky has darkened by the time Magnus reaches the café and busies himself behind the old wooden shelves. He would’ve finished the catalogue a week ago if he hadn’t invited Alec over and then spent the rest of the day discussing the pros and cons of different cake tins and frosting techniques.

If he was being completely honest with himself, Magnus had grown fond of the stolen moments with Alec, granted that their meetings weren’t exactly a secret, still. Distractedly, he pulled at the overhead lamp’s switch in order to alleviate the dimness. As he began arranging the last couple of hardbacks onto the shelves, an odd sense of finality enveloped him. He wouldn’t have an excuse to come here as often anymore. Not anytime soon, at least.

The sky was overcast with heavy clouds; the sound of thunder rumbling across the glass windowpanes. Magnus looked at the time. Barely past three. He had nothing more to do. Maybe he could try rearranging the books in the—

“Hi,” Alec says from behind him.

“Alexander.” Magnus whirls around. He takes in the light splatter of raindrops on the cloth of Alec’s shirt, around his shoulders and arms, lingering where it fell open below his throat, exposing a long line of pale skin, reflecting honeyed hues under the yellow light. And for a long moment, the words on Magnus’ tongue fade away and he just stares, lips parted, before blinking himself back into reality.

Alec’s eyes flicker between him and the book in his hands and eventually comes to rest on Magnus’ face. “I didn’t mean to rush you,” Alec says, there’s some kind of tentativeness in his tone as if he’s being careful and Magnus finds that he doesn’t like it one bit. “Catarina mentioned you probably won't be around as much.” Alec’s tone was even, but Magnus detected an undercurrent of something more. He watches him, arrested by the sight Alec made in the low light. The harsh angle of it throwing his face into stark relief, casting long shadows of his lashes and tousled hair upon his cheek, sharpening the angles of his face. It made him look older. _Unreal_.

Alec’s waiting for him to answer.

“Magnus?”

The softness of his name on Alec’s lips makes the edge in his tone more apparent. Magnus realizes its one the first times he’s called him by his first name.

The population in the café had already thinned to less than half dozen and the gentle hum of private conversation was fading into the white noise of the rain that came pelting on the glass.

“Alec,” Magnus says, abruptly. He catches the soft material of Alec’s shirt in between this thumb and forefinger. “You haven’t,” Magnus _hopes_ his confession is a meaningful remedy, “You haven’t rushed me.”

Feeling emboldened by the surprise flitting across Alec’s widened eyes, Magnus, in a move that is more decisive than anything he’s ever done in relation to this _infuriatingly_ gorgeous man, fists Alec’s shirt and pulls him into a kiss.

Alec’s mouth is soft and insistent and Magnus can’t process anything beyond his thundering heart but when Alec pulls away and searches his face, Magnus’s nod is resolute. Alec’s gaze drops to his mouth once more and he lifts his hand, his thumb gently brushing across Magnus’ lower lip and the tenderness of his repetitive gesture makes Magnus’ knees tremble and his heart _ache_.

He tugs at his shirt, pulling them closer, his hands glide up the solidity of Alec’s muscles, delighting in the heat emanating from his body. Alec’s mouth is hot against his. Magnus tastes the rain, the scent of wet earth and Alec’s own perfume. His fingers tangle in his hair and— _fuck_ —Alec’s pressing him into the cramped space behind the shelf, his bigger frame warm and delicious against Magnus’. Alec’s wet fingers are cold against his overheated skin, roaming underneath his shirt, he bites into Alec’s lower lip, unable to stop a low moan from escaping his throat.

“Magnus,” Alec groans thickly in his ear when his mouth is seeking the throb of Alec’s pulse on his throat.

And Magnus Bane was a cautious man, but he felt wholly assured in the realization that he could get used to the way Alec Lightwood called his name.

“You seem occupied,” Ragnor said, poking his head behind the shelf.

Magnus ducked his head in the crook of Alec’s neck, clinging tightly to him.

“Hello,” Alec said, pulling them both out of the space, suave and least bothered. The only evidence a darkening bruise on his pale neck. One hand rested possessively on the small of Magnus’ back, the other he extended to Ragnor.

“And you must be Mr Alexander Lightwood,” Ragnor took his hand. “Charmed.”

“Please, call me Alec.”

“If you insist.” He turned to Magnus, “sorry, love, it’s time to close up.”

There’s a light drizzle when they step out into the cool night air. Magnus rubs his hands together, waiting for Alec to open the umbrella.

“Dinner?” Magnus asks when Alec pulls him under the cover.

“Thought you’d never ask, I’m starving.”

“What are you craving?”

“In general or right now? Because I have some ideas for both,” Alec says breathlessly, stealing a kiss.

“Food.” Magnus laughs.

“Food,” Alec repeats, pulling Magnus flush against himself. “Yes!”

**Author's Note:**

> comments and kudos are desperately sought after for the endless need for validation <3 PLS <3


End file.
